Seventeen Again
by PicklesAndJam
Summary: Lilly thinking back on a fateful day. Part of Loliver Summer-post-athon! Weee!


**Just Lilly being a sad old lady. xD  
If you have any idea whats going on here, have an internet cookie, cos I haven't a clue.  
Part of Loliver Summer-post-athon**

They're just words. Words on a page. Countless amounts of pixels forming wastes of memory.

And time.

Oh yes, lots of time. Time I'll never get back. Time I know he would have wanted me to spend differently. But control in that aspect is out of my reach.

Years I must have spent collectively sat here, slipping into glazes of subconscious typing. Unaware of my aging fingertips dancing along the keyboard, hitting the same keys every time. Unaware until I click the 'Save' button, that I've done it once again.

The letters are no longer imprinted onto the keys. Worn off long ago, where my now soft touches across the keyboard, were once thrashes of unknowing, blurred anger; where I would wake from my trance with nothing but the thought of what could have been.

It breaks my heart every time.

Silver Surfer. I guess you could call me that. My once golden hair now falls thinner; wispier. Nothing like it used to be. Back in my other lifetime.

Now tears prick my eyes whenever I hear music; after that day. Which is more frequent than you'd imagine.

And I gave up skating. I mean, who can blame me? I know now why they call it an "Extreme Sport". Always seemed silly to me until that day; my personal Doomsday.

I admit that's a bit dramatic. I _did_ have a life after what happened. I was happily married for 45 years, until his time came too.

First, he was shocked by my trances, but he stayed by me to wipe my eyes and hold me close.

I never let him kiss me though. He didn't mind. He loved me.

"A tiny sacrifice for such a large benefit" he used to say. And I loved him too. But it was incomparable to the love I felt in my first life.

Which is why I wanted my first kiss to remain my last.

That sounds pathetic. More so since I was 17. So was he. But he never_ will_ reach 18.

I opened my 'My Documents' folder to the familiar scene of Word Documents with the varied names of "The Death1" to "The Death3893". The same thing saved under different names.

I should speak it one last time before I go to sleep. I closed 'My Documents'. I don't need to read it.

I shuffled up in my seat painfully and took a deep breath, ready to recite my drabble that I could, now, recall off by heart. It's 2nd nature.

"My music tuned out every sound around me

I was being a teenager, carefree and reckless

My hands in my pockets

And my eyes focusing in the distance

On nothing in particular

I skated across to the edge of the sidewalk

And pushed off onto the road

Not looking of course

Humming along to the familiar tune blaring into my ears

So I wouldn't have heard the Chevy's predatory roar

It was charging

I glanced to my right

Seeing the monster not slowing

I saw no way out

Until _he_ suddenly appeared

Pushing me out of the line of fire

And himself into it

My earphones fell out onto the floor

Cutting the music that caused this all

And bringing my world down to a thud

I pulled myself up

And rushed over

As I saw the Chevy speeding off unscathed

And turned my attention to my best friend

Oliver

I kneeled down beside him

His eyes half open

His mouth in a slight smirk

'I saved you' He had said

'Do me a favour

And don't let my efforts go to waste'

He let a weak laugh escape him

I searched his face frantically

And brushed the back of my hand

Along his cheek

His breathing grew heavier

And I propped myself up over him

With each hand

on either side of his shoulders

And told him to hang on

That help was on the way

But he told me

No

That he didn't want help

He said

"All I want is a kiss

From the girl I fell for.

Literally."

He made jokes at the most bizarre times

But I could tell it contained truth

And my breath caught in my throat

As I leaned in and kissed him

For the first and last time

And he kissed back

Momentarily

So I pulled away

And with a last desperate clutch at hope

Checked his pulse

But found nothing

I breathed my love for him

Admitting it for the first time

Defeated

It was too late."

I'm just a sad old woman I guess.

He gave his life for me to be alive today. But now I'm ready to join him.

I slipped into sleep in my favourite armchair. Humming that all too familiar tune. With no moisture in my eyes as I drifted into nothingness.

A distant knock woke me up.

A familiar knock.

Our knock.

The one _we_ made up when we were just 6 years old.

I rushed to my front door as fast as my joints would allow, and pulled the handle.

And there he was, behind a picturesque, bright light. My ancient, watery blue eyes met with his deep, brown ones.

17 year old Oliver Oken stood in my doorway, with that same boyish smirk plastered on his face.

"Are you ready to discover what could have been, Lilly?" He says to me, holding out his hand.

I take it, and step over the threshold. The door closes, and I'm 17 again.

**Oh, by the way, if you didn't have a clue about the whole keyboard trancy thing, it was some side effect from the impact of Oliver's death**. _**shrugs**_


End file.
